Just Another Creek Story
by SheWritesFanFictionInTheMornin
Summary: Hahahahaha...I don't understand ratings.


I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK OR THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY, M'KAY? I WILL KICK YOU AS HARD AS I CAN IN THE FACE WITH A METAL CHAIR IF YOU THINK OTHERWISE! THANKS, AND I HOPE MY STORY ISN'T TO CRAPPY FOR YOU!

I can still smell the flowers you gave me on our first date. Remember, Craig? The green roses that smelled just like the flowers my mother grew along our front walkway in a feeble attempt to mask the scent of her decaying marriage. It reminds me of our first date, though I guess that's not much of a surprise.

I can still rmember your face when you shoved the flowers toward me. You couldn't look me in the face, but I could tell you were blushing. I'm sure it was as bright and red as the flowers had once been. You grabbed my hand and tugged me along, and I couldn't help but blush as well. You were holding my hand.

I suddenly wondered how long you had stood out there, on my front porch. Your hand was freezing, and the cool spring breeze that surrounded us didn't even make you flinch. You just kept tugging me along, and then you stopped when we arrived at Stark's Pond.

I suddenly want to laugh. I remember how we had found Stan and Kyle already there, their lips clasped together. You just turned and ran, and I followed, giggling the whole way. I couldn't help it- those two were so cute together!

I knew that Wendy was already over Stan. You had already caught Wendy with Cartman in the closet, and you said that Cartman's pants were pulled down and his underwear was off. I'm glad that Stan and Wendy had both found happy relationships after their break up.

You took me to the movies, and bought two tickets for "The Purge". I had spent the entire time with my head buried in your chest, twitching and whimpering. You held me close and stroked my hair, ran your fingers down my back, your warm breath tickling my ear as you told me that everything was ok. I tried to apologize, over and over again, but you just interupted me, saying that I shouldn't apologize. It was your fault, and you'd never let it happen again. I believed you. Around our fifth date, you had kissed me gently, and I'm not going to lie. I was the one who was hungry and lusting for more. I was the one who deepend the kiss. I'm still not entirly sure why. Maybe it was because I saw the way Clyde had looked at you. I wasn't a fool. I saw the lust in his eyes. I wanted - needed - to prove you were mine. I kissed down your neck, and started sucking vigorously, driven by your moans of pleasure and you reaction. I needed everyone to know you were mine. We hadn't bothered to go any farther, as that would probably come later in the relationship. We both knew it would. Don't lie. Don't you dare lie. The air felt different the day it happened. We had been listening to music in your room, and you had come up from behind me and placed you arms around me. I blushed, and turned. "C-Craig?!" You kissed me then and it quickly progressed. I still remember the scent of fear and sweat in the air as we flopped against the bed, you pressing me against the the matress. I remember afterwards, you grabbed my hand and your lips brushed across my knuckles. "I'll love you." you stated. "Forever." I was filled with happiness then, sure that you would keep your promise. I remember closing my eyes and letting a river sweep me away. Finally, the last thing I can seem to fully remember was our fight. It had been about Clyde and Stan. Things were said, and I'm definantly not proud of what I said. You had accused me of cheating on you with Stan. "Well, at least I'm not cheating with one of my best friends!" I had cried out. Your words had already hurt me, far worse than any physical damage you could've dealt me. "W-well, at least I'm not cheating with the enemy!" "Well, at least I'm cheating with someone who's cuter than you!" I screamed. I had wanted to take it all back. It was too late now, though. "Who says?! You think you know everything, don't you, Tweek?!" I flinched then said "No, b-but I just-" "Don't you dare talk about Stan! You know how touchy a subject that is for me!" Our eyes held fast, storming. I grabbed my things and left, slamming the door behind me. Other than that, I can only remember fragments. Cold water, your scent, flowers, your lips, your smile, and wanting you to forgive me. All I can think about are your hugs right now. I need to be in your arms.

The thought of you holding me in your arms again energizes me. I slowly pull my eyelids open, and stare into the darkness that swaddles me, uncomfortable. I try to call for you, but my throat isn't working properly. "Craaaiiiigg."

It comes out all wrong. It was supposed to sound sweet and wanting, gentle and comforting. Instead it's dragged out of my throat as a long, scratchy moan. It's unpleasent to my ears, and I want to cover my ears. It sounds so broken, and I wonder how this can be my voice for a second. I want you, though. Need you. So I call for you again. "Craaaaiiiiiig."

I still can't get it right. I try to sit up, but find something in my way. Bumping my head, I fall back with a grunt of frustration. I push my limbs out in front of me. Again, something is wrong. My limbs are stiff, and I feel more immobile and helpless than I should. Suddenly, the darkness is suffocating, and I feel claustrophobia setting in. I need out!

I try to thrash, but find that I can only move in short, jerky motions. I scratch at the door, the barriar that holds me. I find that whatever it is, it can be easily dug through. I feel a rush of cool air brush my hand, and I grunt in satisfaction. My left hand quickly joins my right, and I place them on solid ground. I lift myslef, grunting and moaning in frustration and pain. I manage to sit up, and I look around, my neck creaking awkwardly. It's still dark, though stars and the moon stream a pale blue light down around me.

I feel confusion race through my head as I look around me. I see trees. So...many...trees. I crawl out, and look at where I had laid.

It looked like a shallow grave. A creek gushed nearby, and my head bobbled. I started walking in the trees, and hope I find my way out soon.

As I see the town through the trees, I realize that I'm going to have to go down hill. I feel my left leg slip down, and my right leg follows suit. I tumble down, and feel no pain as I'm tossed about.

With a groan, I stand back up, limping along a path that I know oh so well. I finally reach your house, a harsh blueish glow emitting from inside. I go up to the window, and see you and Clyde. I stiffen even more- if that's possible - as I see Clyde slip his arm around your shoulder. Your face falls, and you turn to his shoulder, sobbing. He comforts you, and I watch in envy as he runs his fingertips lightly down your back. He lifts your head gently, his fingers under your chin. He gently kisses you, and you sit there and let it happen. Angered, I raise my arms and fists at an achingly slow pace. The effect was worth it, though. I ram my fists on the window, and you flinch as the glass vibrates.

You spin around, and I see the fear in your eyes. Surprise is quickly mixed, and you run over, placing your hands on the glass. I hear you say "Tweek?"

It's muffled, but I can hear you. I open my mouth, hoping it works properly. "Crrrrraaaaaiiiiggg." I moan, scratching at the window. Your smell, your sound, your breath, you. I feel more frantic, more need for you, and I scratch even quicker, more moans falling from my throat.

"Crrraaaaiiiiggg. Crrrrrrraaaaaaaaaiiiiigggggggg!" I moan loudly, and you run to the front door, throwing it open. You run to embrace me. I wrap my arms awkwardly around you, and place my head in the crook of your neck. Your warm pulse washes over me, and I feel an urge. An unquenchable thirst, and I need it. After all, I've always been weak when it comes to self control. You knew that though, didn't you Craig?

I open my mouth slowly, my jaws aching, and I slowly sink my teeth into your warm, pulsing neck. I drown out your screams, ignoring them as your warm, nector like blood rushes into my mouth, down my throat, and into my stomach.

You're still, so very still, as I lay you down on the ground, waiting for you to join me. To keep your promise. Together forever, right, Craig?

I stand back up slowly, and find Clyde, a gun in his shaking hands. "You just won't let us be happy, will you Tweek?" he asks, his teeth clenched.

I stumble toward him. "Clyyyydeeee?"

"You just won't stay dead, will you?!" he whispers, the wind carrying it over to me. As it brushes my ears, I feel a little scared. He let out a laugh, the laugh of a mad man. "You see, I had a whole plan. You dissapear, never get found, and Craig is in pain, in need. He needs a shoulder to cry on, and boom. Instant relationship. We would have been so happy together, with you out of the picture. He would have forgotten you- EVERYONE would have forgotten you! Oh, but oh no! You just won't fucking die!" he says, his soft voice slowly growing into a scream.

He cocks his gun and shoots me. Pain sears through my head for a moment before the world falls into a blissful black wonderland.

Clyde stands in front of the Tucker's house, smoke slowly wafting up from the gun in his hand. He lowers it, a twisted smile on his face, and tears filling his eyes.

"Oh, Tweek. Tweek, Tweek, Tweek. You poor bastard. Didn't you understand the first time I killed you? When I drowned you in that creek? Don't you remember struggling and splashing around, desperatly trying to get me to let go? I remember. You and Craig had gotten in a fight, and I had swooped in. I had invited you to go to that stream in the woods with me. You were so mad at Craig, and you thought it would be the perfect revenge and the best way to make him jeolous. You were so cute, picking little flowers and smiling at me so brightly. Little did you know that I was plotting against you. All I had wanted was Craig, and you were a little black speck in my way. You were nothing."

He laughs and walks over to the dead blonde boy, who was once his friend and his very first victim. Not to mention second. He grabs his hair and lifts his head, and he can see the dirt on his face. He takes a moment to remember the shallow grave he had quickly dug, the frantic feelings darting about inside him. He hadn't originally meant to kill the blonde boy - oh, no. He had meerly meant to bad talk Craig to the point that he would never want to be with him again. Something dark had swept over him, though, as Tweek had sat on a medium sized rock and picked at one of the flowers, a sigh escaping his pink lips.

"I miss Craig so much, Clyde. M-my heart...it hurts without him. GAH!" He twirched violently, and Clyde stared at him, and idea forming in his head.

He had swept up behind Tweek and held him under water until the struggling and thrashing had stopped.

"Where's your precious love for Craig now? Where's your cuddles and hugs and kisses that you had shared in front of me? Huh?!" he spit in his face. Tweek was still, his sickly greenish blue skin glowing in the gentle light of the moon, and his eyes were closed. His features were soft in the moonlight, and his lips were gently parted.

Clyde started laughing. Slowly and quietly, though it quickly grew louder and more frantic. Spit gathered at his lips, spittle falling. "You're so pathetic." Clyde hissed, throwing Tweek's head back. It fell with a solid sound against the pavement, and it bounced back.

Clyde felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and he stood up, walking away. He hid the gun in his jacket pocket as he walked down the street, back to his house, tears trickling down his face.

* . * . * .

16 Year Old Charged with Murder

It is with a heavy heart that we at Park Gazzete inform you that Clyde Donovan, a local 16 year old, has been charged with murder. The teen was arrested at approximatly 2:30 pm, after the bodies of both Tweek Tweak and Craig Tucker were found, and the DNA evidance pointed to this young teen. He claims that he had only killed Tweek, though he admits to killing him twice. He has been sent to a mental institution, and has been placed in a padded cell, much like a jail.

The young boy was found in his room, one gun pointed at the door and another pointed at his head. He was half asleep, and tears were streaming down his face. The boy has never been reported for any violent, suspicious, or unruly behaviour, and it is a complete shock to the commmunity and everyone that was close to Donovan. It is indeed a shock - one that has shattered the very community we live in.


End file.
